


The Boy From The Sea

by appleslovetea



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fantasy, M/M, Mermen, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-16 15:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12345201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appleslovetea/pseuds/appleslovetea
Summary: AU. Akihito is a young fisherman with a secret, living in a Japanese village by the sea. Asami is the wealthy owner of the village's most popular bar. They've known each other for years, but a recent tragic event has caused them to drift apart.  However, Akihito's finding it increasingly difficult to suppress his heart's desires,... even if that means putting his secret at risk.





	1. Prologue

Out of all the fishermen in Ine-cho village, Akihito is out the earliest. He has to. It’s the only plausible explanation as to why he’s always the one to bring back the most catch.

Most days the sun will not yet have graced the horizon, and you’ll already be able to find him driving his bike through the spidery roads that lead down to Ine-cho’s bay.

This is by far Akihito’s favorite time of the day; when most of the village has not yet woken up from dreamland, and few are the chimneys that betray the breakfast preparations of his fellow fishermen.

If the young man breaths in deep enough, he can sometimes even smell the strange mixture of fresh brewed coffee and sea algae that so characteristically wafts through the village air at around this hour.

A mile away from his house, he stops the bike next to his family’s motorboat, and bends down to lock its front wheel with a chain.

He does so merely out of habit though. Ine-cho is a peaceful and uneventful place after all. Theft is not at all a concern around these parts.

Besides, if he’s ever to return from the sea and find that his bike is missing, Akihito knows exactly where to go and look for it. Takato and Kou’s front yards.

His two best friends have had a knack for borrowing things without asking in advance ever since they were children. Akihito has gotten used to that long ago.

It’s also been long since he’s gotten used to being constantly harassed by the two of them in order to join their little fishing group. Takato and Kou prefer to fish together. In truth, theirs is the sensible way to go about the job. Almost all fishermen go out in pairs or in small groups after all.

Not Akihito though. He can’t afford the risk.

He takes his waterproofs from his backpack while surveying the incoming tides, and pulls them on over his denim shorts. Ideally, he would be wearing cotton trousers in order to face the icy November winds, but his washing machine broke down two days ago, and most of his Fall clothes are now on a pile on the floor of his bathroom, waiting to be hand washed.

Without wasting any time, lest the morning’s freezing temperatures make him start shivering, Akihito carries a couple of empty fishing crates from his bike into the motorboat, before stepping inside it.

The motorboat’s engine soon comes to life under his hands, and Akihito expertly steers it towards the mass of fishing boats waiting for their masters just outside the bay.

As the distance to the mainland increases, a foggy mist begins to surround the vessel from all sides, chilling the air even more around Akihito. Despite his young age though, Akihito knows that the fog is not a bad omen. His experience as a fisherman tells him so. The waves will be calm and shallow today. Perfect for king crab fishing.

Not that he ever concerns himself with what happens on the sea’s surface. It’s what happens beneath it that spikes his interest.

He soon anchors the motorboat next to his fishing boat, and transfers the crates to the deck of the latter with ease.

Once aboard, his eyes instinctively turn to shore, trying to discern any new signs of life amongst the sleeping village.

Most of Ine-cho’s houses face the ocean and are well spaced out from each other, so he can clearly see who’s already up and about even despite the foggy mist.

A light visible through the kitchen window of Takato’s house, shows that Akihito’s friend is already up,… or perhaps the one who’s up is his wife, preparing the first bottle of the day for Hiro-kun. He remembers Takato telling him that the little guy is teething at the moment, and giving his parents some rough nights as a result, hence the dark circles Aki’s friend has been sporting under his eyes lately.

All is dark and quiet at Kou’s place though, which in reality is not unexpected, given the hour. Kou always liked to sleep in, and is often seen being given a reprimand by his business partner on account of his tardiness to show up to work.

Akihito’s eyes slowly roam through the rest of the village’s homes, until they finally settle on a white building that overlooks most of the bay’s right side; the village’s largest and most popular bar and hangout place for locals and tourists alike.

All seems quiet there as well, although that is also to be expected. The bar is the last place to shutdown for the night in Ine-cho. It closes long after Akihito normally goes to bed, and opens only after lunchtime.

The young fisherman’s eyes eventually shift from the bar’s façade on the ground level, to the building’s upper floor, which houses the apartment of the establishment’s owner.

“Asami must still be sleeping.” Akihito finds himself whispering under his breath, while looking towards the dark windows of the apartment.

The moment the other man's name leaves his lips though, he feels his cheeks immediately getting warmer.    

“Focus, Akihito. Focus.” He quickly tells himself, shifting his stare back towards the fishing crates and the work day ahead of him.

From then on, his day progresses as per usual, but Akihito would be lying to himself if he were to say he did not, on more than one occasion, find his eyes being irresistibly drawn to Asami's home.


	2. PART I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little side note: Azumi Ryouko is the woman who accompanied Asami to a social event in the early chapters of the Pray in the Abyss story arc... (I think). Or was it in the Escape and Love story arc? Can't remember. Either way, happy readings!^^

Dracaena is packed this evening. The buoyant voices of its customers reach Akihito, carried by the wind, even before the young man drives his bike past the entrance of the bar’s parking lot.

Being it so close to dinnertime as it is, the high influx of people is to be expected though.

Akihito doesn’t mind. In fact, he prefers stopping by Dracaena when it is at its fullest capacity. A busy bar means that there is less of a chance that the young man will be forced to interact with the one person in Ine-cho whom he makes a point out of avoiding as of late.

The temperature has been decreasing rapidly since sunset and the humidity that has been clinging to the air all evening brings with it the promise of storms.

Akihito sneezes despite himself, his body trembling as a consequence. Shorts and a T-shirt are definitely not appropriate garments to face the day’s gloomy weather, and he silently curses against his own bad luck and the pile of clothes he’ll have to spend the night hand washing.

He hefts a fishing crate from the back of his bike, the king crabs trapped inside it still very much alive and ready to put up a fight, and swiftly carries it towards the front door of the establishment. No point in risking catching a cold by staying out in the open for too long!

A couple on their way in hold the door open for him. They both greet him in English; their blond hair and blue eyes betraying the fact that they are foreigners long before their spoken words.

Tourists out exploring the western coast of Honshu, no doubt.

Akihito returns the greeting in a quiet voice; feeling self-conscious on account of his English being far from perfect as he walks through the door in front of them.

The smell of cooked seafood engulfs him in a comforting blanket as soon as the door closes behind him.

It seems that the king crab dish that Dracaena is so famous for is being prepared and served by the truckload tonight. The fisherman can smell the characteristic scent of the spices used in it wafting through the air.

“Hey, Aki-kun!” A voice immediately calls out to the young man from behind the bar’s counter.

The latter turns his head in the direction of the sound, finding Yoh looking at him with a broad smile. “How are you, young man?” The older one asks, while serving a beer to one of the local customers.

Akihito smiles back. He likes Yoh. He has liked him for a long time. And not just because the dark haired man used to be a standard fixture in his house while the fisherman was growing up, being in the same class as Aki’s older brother, and one of the latter’s closest friends.

No. There's more to their friendship than that.

Yoh has always treated Akihito kindly. Always. Even back when the villagers still stared suspiciously at his sandy blond hair and amber eyes. Even back when most of them still whispered tall tales amongst themselves every time Akihito walked past them on his way to school or to the grocery store.

“How was today’s catch? Got anything nice for us?” Yoh asks, whilst beginning to mix up a cocktail for a pretty young woman sitting on one of the bar stools.

“Sure do.” The fisherman replies. “Biggest king crabs yet this season.” And he holds up the crate for Yoh to see.

The older man whistles in approval. “You sure have a gift, Aki-kun! How on earth do you always manage to haul in the finest catch in the whole of Ine-cho?”

The sound of female laughter coming from the other side of the room saves the fisherman from having to come up with a lie on the spot.

Akihito and a few others around him turn to look with curiosity at the origin of the sound, and soon spot the group of locals from where it originated from, as well as the culprit herself.

The scene makes Akihito’s heart drop to his stomach.

Azumi Ryouko, the undisputed village beauty, is still laughing at something Asami has apparently just said, clinging to the man’s arm as if her life depends on it.

No one seems surprised to see her at Dracaena, even though everyone knows it’s been a couple of years now since she has moved to Kyoto to start working for an upscale designer store. Come rain or shine though, she always finds the time to commute to Ine-cho every single weekend.

The viperine tongues around the village say such only happens because Ryouko has never given up on her well-known crush over Dracaena’s owner, and that she is still very much attempting to win him over even now.

Asami doesn’t seem to mind the attention she bestows on him, although in truth, one can never really say for sure what it is that is going on inside Asami Ryuichi’s head.

On the outside he looks like the perfect host, the perfect PR for any social occasion. Some even say that he and Dracaena were singlehandedly responsible for putting Ine-cho on the map as one of Japan’s most pleasant coastal villages.

No one can deny that he has a natural eye for business, and the proof is that he has profited immensely over the years from various business ventures. In fact, his company, Sion Corporation, currently owns several bars and traditional _izakaya’s_  all over the coastal region of Kansai, making Asami one of the wealthiest men in the area.

For some unknown reason though, he has never left Ine-cho, nor has he ever once felt tempted to succumb to Ryuoko’s incentives to move to the big city, away from his life by the sea.

The woman laughs again, and this time Asami bends down to whisper something in her ear.

Akihito gulps as a result, his stomach feeling as though it is an ocean caught up in the middle of a storm.

Asami is dressed casually today. Khaki trousers, a fitted shirt with rolled up sleeves, a discreet wool jacket and a pair of classic sneakers make up the older man’s ensemble. Each garment fits him like a glove though, as if each individual piece was made with only its current user in mind.

Indeed, rumor has it that all of Asami’s clothes are tailor-made, but Akihito knows better than to believe in every single rumor the villagers discuss over hot coffee.

Asami was simply blessed with a perfectly proportioned body, that’s all. Practically every single clothing item he chooses to wear benefits his figure as it would a Michael Angelo’s David.

His choice of attire today somehow makes him look younger than he actually is though. Or maybe that impression is simply due to the fact that Akihito has lately grown accustomed to seeing the other man mostly dressed in business suits.

Either way, hardly anyone ever believes that Asami has only just recently turned 30. He’s so wise and business savvy that most people assume he is at the very least in his mid-thirties.

Akihito smiles bitterly at the thought. He wouldn’t mind being thought of by others as being older and savvier than he actually is. Even if only for a moment; just so he could know for once how that feels like. Instead, at 20 years-old, Akihito’s perpetual baby face and slim figure still get him embarrassingly mistaken for a high schooler every time he travels outside of Ine-cho. 

Something akin to a sixth sense must have alerted Asami to the fact that he’s being scrutinized at the moment, because the older man’s head suddenly turns round; his eyes easily finding Akihito’s above the throng of people that separates them.

The young man panics, nearly dropping the fishing crate on the wooden floorboards of Dracaena. And wouldn’t that have been an entertaining spectacle for Dracaena’s clientele to witness?

“Huh…” Akihito says, quickly turning his focus back towards Yoh. “I-I’ll take the crate to Kirishima-san. You don’t need to bother.”

“Oh, will you?” The dark haired man retorts, relieved. “You’re a real champ, Aki-kun! Things are pretty hectic here today, I’m afraid. One of the waiters came down with a cold and my hands have been tied up with work all day.”

“Sure. No problem.” The fisherman answers, already making his way towards the kitchen area at the back of the bar. “I’ll just ask Kirishima-san to sign the invoice in your place, don’t worry. See you in a bit!”

Yoh’s voice reaches him just as he is about to disappear behind the corner of the counter. “Thanks Aki-kun. You’re a life saver!”

Dracaena’s kitchen is an organized mess of shinning counters, pots and pans of various sizes, smells of garlic, spices and herbs and all around yumminess that makes the mouth crave food even if one’s stomach is already full.

Chef Kirishima Key calls the shots around here, but don’t be mistaken by his apparent calm demeanor. He is as strict and obnoxious in his perfectionism as chefs can get.

With three Michelin stars under his belt, and being unanimously considered an authority on all things related to seafood cuisine, Kirishima has worked in some of the most famous and ruthless kitchens throughout the European upscale restaurant scene.

A native of Tokyo himself, most people have a difficult time understanding why such a distinguished chef has ended up in an otherwise unremarkable village like Ine-cho, however, _most people_ are unaware of the degree of professional devotion that Kirishima has for the likes of Asami Ryuichi.

To say the chef holds his boss in the highest regard is an understatement. Akihito has always harbored a secret suspicion that the professional bond between the two men is so tight that Kirishima would kill for Asami’s sake if the situation called for it, and although he himself does not fully understand the origin of such undivided allegiance, he’s sort of grown attached to Kirishima’s peculiar personality over the years.

“Ah, there you are!”  The man in question practically shouts as his eyes fall on Akihito. The words making the sub-chef standing beside him and two of the waiters (including Asami’s right hand, Suoh) nearly jump up in the air.

Akihito has to bite down his lower lip to prevent himself from laughing. Seeing Suoh, a man the size of a bulldozer, suddenly quiver in fear at the sound of Kirishima’s voice, never fails to amuse him.

“Hey kiddo!” The blond man says, as he walks past Akihito in the direction of the bar room while balancing two trays filled with food plates on his massive hands. “Still up for the baseball match next week?”

Akihito flashes him a smile. “You bet.” He says. “Make sure you save a spot for me on your team.”

Suoh laughs in return. “Are you kidding me? You’re the best pitcher in the whole damned village. You can be sure as hell I’ll save a spot for you on my team!”

“ _You_ are _late_ , young man!”  The chef’s stern voice interrupts their conversation. “I’ve been waiting for your delivery for the past twenty minutes!”

When Akihito looks back towards the older man, Kirishima is already marching towards him, wooden spoon in hand.

“Y-Yeah, sorry about that, Kirishima-san.” The young man apologizes. “My bike broke down on the way here.” A little white lie. In reality, Akihito had to stop a couple of times along the road to warm up his hands, which nearly froze with the cold evening weather.

Kirishima waves his hand in the air, dismissing the comment. “Justifications are irrelevant to me. Now, let me see the day’s catch. _Vite_! _Vite_!” He adds in French, a habit he retained from his European workdays. For some reason, the man appears even more menacing whenever he speaks French.

Akihito quickly places the fishing crate on top of the nearest counter, immediately hearing Kirishima gasp.

The chef’s eyes widen considerably as he exclaims:  “Such magnificent specimens!”

Behind them, the fisherman can swear he hears the sub-chef sigh in relief.

“The color, the size! What a feast for the eyes!” Kirishima continues, marveled by the king crabs Akihito has brought him.

“Thank you.” The latter says sheepishly, although deep down the young man suspects that the chef’s words are in no way intended to be taken as a compliment to his fishing capabilities.

Nevertheless, Kirishima turns to him with a more subdued expression than the one he was sporting just a few seconds ago. “Very well, young man.” He says. “I’ll forgive your tardiness this time. But make sure such does not occur again in the future. I will not be as forgiving the next time.”

“Sure thing, Kirishima-san.” Akihito retorts. “I’ll stop by tomorrow to pick up the empty crate.” And suddenly remembering the invoice: “Ah, would you mind signing today’s invoice?” He says, while handing the piece of paper to the chef.

The stern look returns to the other man’s face almost immediately. “Why are you asking me?” Kirishima questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Yoh’s busy with the bar.”

The chef’s eyes turn from the invoice to the fisherman, and back to the invoice again. Clearly his unrelenting professional ethics are telling him he is not the appropriate person to deal with administrative paperwork of the kind.

“Well, if Dracaena’s manager is not available, as you say, then you know very well that the next appropriate person within the signature hierarchy is the boss.”

An image of the man in question whispering into Azumi Ryouko’s ear suddenly pops into Akihito’s mind.

“Hm… Asami’s busy too.” He says quietly, hoping his cheeks aren’t turning red.

“Oh, just sign the damn paper and let Aki-kun go on his way.” The sub-chef says out of the blue.

Kirishima’s mouth morphs into a thin line, but instead of snapping back at his subordinate, he takes the invoice from Akihito’s hand, and signs his name in his usual neat and careful calligraphy.

While he does so, Akihito notices for the first time the unusual cool breeze wafting through the kitchen.

His head turns round to find that the door besides the kitchen’s massive freezer (which is normally always shut), is now wide open.

“The backdoor’s open?” He questions intrigued, as Kirishima hands him back the signed invoice.

“Hm? Ah yes. The kitchen’s air conditioning system has been acting up all day, so we had to turn it off a while ago and open the back door for some much needed cool air instead.” Kirishima explains. “Now that I think about it though, it’s getting a bit chilly here. I should close it already.”

Akihito bites his lower lip, glancing sideways at the only other door in the kitchen, which leads to the bar room where he came from.

“Say Kirishima-san, do you mind if I leave through the backdoor? My clothes kind of reek of the ocean today. I don’t want to disturb Dracaena’s customers again on account of the smell.” Another little white lie.

Kirishima looks at the young man with an arched eyebrow. “Really? I don’t smell anything. But very well. If that will get you out of my kitchen faster, be my guest.”

“Thanks, Kirishima-san.” Akihito retorts with a smile, already making his way towards the backdoor. “See you tomorrow then. Oh, and please say goodnight to Yoh and Suoh for me.”

“Will do, young man. And make sure you drive home safely. It looks like it will start raining any minute now.”

The moment the young man steps outside, he’s affected by a sneezing fit.

“Shit. It’s freezing.” He curses between sneezes, and starts running towards the parking lot and his bike.

An image of a mug of hot chocolate plays out continuously in his mind. An image that will become a reality, if the young man ever manages to make it home tonight without turning into a block of ice on the way there.

He’s just put on his helmet and turned the keys in the ignition, when a familiar voice calls out to him from behind.

“Hey Takaba, wait up.” It says above the noise of the engine, but Akihito doesn’t seem to acknowledge it.

“ _If I don’t turn around and instead leave now, I can still pretend I didn’t hear it._ ” The young man thinks to himself.

“ _Hey_ , Takaba!”

The voice is getting closer now, as is the sound of its accompanying steps.

Still the fisherman ignores it, backing his bike out of the parking space with his feet.

“ _Just ignore it. Just ignore it._ ” He mentally recites to himself as a sort of mantra. “ _Ignore it, drive away and you’ll be fine._ ”

But it’s already too late.

He feels a firm hand closing in on his upper arm at the same time he hears his first name.

“Akihito!” Asami says sternly, making the younger man finally turn to look at his caller.

The fisherman tries his best to appear surprised.

“O-Oh, were you calling me?” He asks with what he hopes looks like a casual smile. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you over the noise of the bike.”  He adds, turning its engine off for the moment.

The look Asami gives him though appears to indicate that the older man didn’t believe a single word he’s just said.

His dark eyes look as though they have the power to burn holes into Akihito’s soul.

“What’s up with you today?” Asami asks; his eyebrow raised as he releases his hold on the young man’s arm. “First you don’t even come and say Hello; then you sneak out through the backdoor?”  

“You… looked busy. It didn’t feel right to bother you.” Akihito retorts quietly, his eyes shifting towards the floor for a moment. He’s suddenly feeling very much embarrassed by his earlier actions. “And I’m kind of in a hurry. That’s why I used the backdoor.”

“Where are you running off to at this hour?” Asami asks, his voice all of a sudden a lot gentler than before.

“Huh… just home. I have some paperwork I need to sort out before Monday’s seafood market.”

“Come back inside. Stay for dinner, at least. It’s been ages since you last dinned at Dracaena.”

“Hm…I’ve already eaten actually.”

“You sure? I’ll even ask Kirishima to cook you a hamburger. Just so we can watch the pissed off look on his face.”

Asami chuckles when he says this, already imagining the great seafood chef’s tantrum upon hearing the indignant culinary request, but even though Akihito chuckles along with him, deep inside the young man’s heart is on fire.

“ _Please_ _stop smiling.”_ He pleads with the other man, albeit only through the silence of his thoughts. _“It makes everything worse._ ”  

“Thanks, but no.” He says instead. “I’ve really got to get going.” And with that, he starts backing his bike out of its parking spot again. 

A hand under his chin forces him to stop.

Surprised, he turns his face towards Asami once more, noticing how the man’s earlier stern gaze was in the meantime substituted by one of concern.

“Is everything ok with you, kid?”

“ _I’m not a_ kid _anymore, damn it. Why can’t_ you _see that?_ ” But this is not what Akihito says out loud. Instead, he retorts; a tinge of irritation in his voice: “Everything's fine. Why do you ask?”

Asami is no fool, of course; it’s clear he knows his question provoked Akihito.

“You seem a little aloof lately, that’s all… Especially around me.”

The young man gulps, his heart thumping like crazy inside his chest. “ _How the hell are you able to read me so well?_ ”

He chuckles in an attempt to dispel his awkward mood; his hand coming up to massage the back of his neck. “Oh, I guess I’m just really tired as of late, that’s all.” He says, faking a yawn. “The fishing season this year is sure taking its toll on me! Sorry if it looks like I’ve been acting weird on purpose. I really don’t mean it.”

He waits for the older man to say something, but Asami remains silent this time; the same intense gaze, however, still bestowed upon the youngster.

Things between them are threatening to get awkward fast, but then out of the blue Akihito succumbs to a sudden sneezing fit.

“Sorry.” The fisherman says, while taking out a handkerchief from the back pocket of his denim shorts. “I’ve been sneezing like this all evening.”

“That might have something to do with the fact that you’re wearing summer clothes in the middle of November, don’t you think?”

Akihito’s face turns red as he perceives the accusatory tone in the older man’s voice. Great! So besides still viewing Akihito as a kid, Asami can now also view him as a kid who doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

“My washing machine broke down a couple of days ago.” Akihito explains embarrassed. “I haven’t had time yet to go get it fixed, or to hand wash all of my dirty clothes. The only clean clothes I have left at the moment are T-shirts and shorts.”

“I’ll send Suoh to your house tomorrow morning then. He’s good at fixing appliances. He fixed Kirishima’s washing machine just yesterday.”

“There’s no need, thanks.”

But Asami seems to purposely ignore his comment.

“In the meantime, put this on.” He says, taking off his wool jacket and handing it to Akihito.

“Ah, it’s ok. I don’t really need it.”

“Just put the damn jacket on, Akihito.” Asami tells him firmly. “You’ll freeze to death on your way home otherwise.”

The young man bites his lower lip to prevent himself from snapping back at the other man. He normally isn’t the type to allow himself to be bossed around by others, but the truth is that he _is_ freezing at the moment, so he ends up taking the jacket and putting it on while thanking the older man’s gesture in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

He’s sure he looks like a kid _now_ ; wearing a jacket at least three sizes too big for him.

“I’ve heard there’ll be a storm tomorrow.”

Asami’s remark snaps Akihito back from his commiserating musings.

“Huh?...I guess. I’ve heard it to.” He replies, a little surprised by the other man’s words. Asami's not the type to usually make small talk regarding the weather after all.

“You’re… not planning on taking the fishing boat out tomorrow, are you?”

“No. I don’t go out to sea during storms.” At least not anymore. The last time Akihito did so, and still came back with his fishing crates full, the villagers had tall tale material to last them for at least a fortnight.

Everyone knows it’s nearly impossible to catch king crabs during storms after all. They are the first animals to seek refuge on the seabed during them, far away from the fishing crates’ reach.

His answer seems to please Asami greatly though. One would even venture to say the older man looks relieved by it; to such a degree in fact that a suspicion instantly materializes itself in Akihito’s mind.

“…You don’t need to do all this, you know?” The young man says moments later, verbalizing his mental conjecture.

Asami frowns at his words. “Do what?”

“Watch over me, and stuff. You don’t need to feel obliged to act as my older brother’s substitute, just because the two of you were close frien-.”

Asami cuts him off gravely, his firm tone surprising Akihito. “I have no intention of acting as your older brother’s substitute, Akihito.”

“Then… why do you-?”

“Ryuichi?”

A female voice prevents Akihito from finishing the question.

“Ryu, where are you?”

Azumi Ryouko. Akihito would recognize her nasal voice anywhere.

“Oh, there you are, Ryu.” She says, suddenly appearing just around the corner of Dracaena’s building, and swiftly making her way towards the object of her search. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She exclaims, losing no time in clutching Asami’s arm with both her hands.

“That obnoxious Mikhail Arbatov and the rest of his fishing crew have just challenged Suoh and Yoh to a billiard game. Won’t you help us defeat the Russians, Ryu? You’re the best player in town!”

“I’m busy right now, Ryouko.” Asami replies nonchalantly, apparently immune to the woman’s puppy eyes.

“I-It’s ok. I’m leaving anyway. It’s getting late.” Akihito replies, secretly telling himself (without really believing so) that he’s not at all bothered by the way Ryouko is clinging to the other man.

The woman in question turns to the youngster, as if noticing for the first time that she and Asami are not alone in the parking lot.

“Oh my!” She exclaims. “Have I interrupted something?”

“Yes.” Asami answers promptly, but “No” is what Akihito says at the exact same time.

“Oh.” Ryouko retorts confused. She’s about to add something else, when her eyes suddenly widen in recognition of the young fisherman.

“I know you!” She proclaims, while fixing her eyes back on Akihito. “You’re Fei Long’s little brother, aren’t you?”

Akihito nods in silence.

“I used to be in the same class as your brother in high school. Did you know that?”

“ _Yes, I did. And he hated your guts back then, by the way._ ” Akihito thinks to himself. He secretly wonders if that stupid grin would disappear from her face if he were to tell her that.

“I was so sad to learn that he died in a boat accident. I would have come back for the funeral, but the ceremony took place in the middle of Kyoto’s Fashion Week, you know? I couldn’t possibly have left the City at the time.”

“Ryouko!” Is Asami’s attempt to cut her off.  

“You know, I always found it so strange...” She continues, narrowing her eyes at Akihito with interest. “You don’t look a thing like your brother.”

“Enough, Ryouko!” Asami cuts her off sternly this time.

He then turns to Akihito, searching the young man’s eyes for any damage done by the woman’s words, but the latter is already turning the engine of the bike back on.

“I really should get going.” He says apologetically above the engine’s roar.

“Akihito,...” Asami starts.

“Thanks for the jacket. I’ll give it to Suoh tomorrow when he stops by my house.”

“Akihito, wait a second.”

“See you around, Asami.”

And with that the fisherman quickly departs the scene; Ryouko’s voice still loud enough for him to hear as the bike passes through the parking lot’s gate though.

“Oh my, did I say something wrong?” She asks innocently.

Akihito drives the bike over to the other side of the village, all the while telling himself that the stinging sensation that he feels in his eyes is due to the cold weather, and to it alone. Asami’s jacket feels warm against his skin; the garment impregnated with the other man’s scent.

By the time the young man reaches his front yard, he no longer has the strength to fight against his emotions though.

He sits on the steps that lead up to his porch overlooking the sea, and covers his face with the sleeves of Asami’s jacket, letting his tears finally run free.  


End file.
